Free To Kiss You Again by Brandie Buckwine Page B

direction, bursting and convulsing with every quickened beat of my heart. My thighs clamp together, prolonging the ecstasy and crushing Matt’s head, but he continues the onslaught, even though I must be suffocating him. He forces my thighs apart once more and holds them there as I climb and crest again, my feet digging into the bed as my pelvis goes airborne with my next climax. He tongues the length of me, savoring the libation of his efforts.
    “Jackpot,” he mumbles against my pussy.
    Exquisite spasms chase through me as Matt kisses his way up my body. “Oh, baby girl, you taste so fucking good,” he whispers around the searing contact. His words incite a prolonged reaction.
    I respond with a moan and grasp his shoulders, encouraging him to move faster, climb higher, bless my mouth with his magical lips, but he takes his time, lingering at my breasts. The attention he lavishes on each nipple sends my mind spinning, and my words are lost. I want to tell him he has rocked my world – tell him that I never knew sex could be this amazing, that I never want him to stop touching me. My tongue lolls in my mouth. Just like the rest of my body, it swims in bliss and can’t be bothered to do anything that might topple me from the clouds.
    By the time his face reaches mine, it is dry, but my scent is strong in his stubble and breath as he runs his tongue along my lower lip. His erection slides along my thighs and teasingly pokes at me. My body craves him, as though he didn’t just bring my world crashing down around me, twice. The muscles of his ass flex under my hands as he strains against me. Everywhere our flesh touches, I feel vibrations – a constant hum. Is it the same electrical impulses I felt the first time we touched on the boat, or merely him straining to maintain his control?
    His tongue finds mine, and images flash through my mind. Much changed, yet so familiar. Him as a young man, my first love, my first kiss, the only person who ever made me lose control of my own free will. Memories of Matt on the boat, his pull so strong, I nearly gave into my baser urges in public. Matt – the man whose soul reclaimed mine with his earth-shattering kiss outside the restaurant. Fresh memories suddenly flood me and the emotions threaten to overwhelm, and I force myself to focus on the here and now – his fiery kiss, the thrill as he thumbs and pinches my nipple. The throbbing cock sliding along my slit.
    It’s too much. I wrap my legs around his waist, then reach down and guide him to my entrance, pulling him to me with my legs. His breath hitches as he enters me. A wild look fills his eyes when I meet his gaze. I recognize it, because I feel the same turmoil. He wants to lose himself, let go, but he is afraid.
    “Fuck me, Matt,” I growl, hoping to bring this back to a long awaited consummation rather than a promise of a fairytale future. To disarm the threat of what may come.
    He bites his lip and slowly stretches me to capacity. The walls of my pussy spasm around him, and I can barely breathe. Before he even begins, I am coming.
    “Easy, baby girl.” He kisses my forehead, but I can’t stop, so he gives me a few thrusts to push me over the edge. “You’re gonna kill me,” he chuckles as I let the orgasm wash through my body. None of my past romps have ever come close to this kind of passion or excitement. Who climaxes from penetration alone? Normally, I’m lucky to climax at all, and it scares me to know I now can’t hold back.
    “I’m sorry,” I say, ashamed of my wantonness.
    His lips pull at my earlobes. “Don’t ever be sorry about coming. Do you know what it does to me, to see you lose control with me?”
    I squeak when he plunges deeper, reaching what feels like the end of me. His slow movements make me want to roll him over and take the lead, but his careful angling holds me back. While the pace might be slow, the way he circles his hips as he drives into me hits the same delectable spot his